Because I'm Useless
by Kenizz
Summary: Martin knows he's useless, he knows that no matter what he does someone else will, and has already done it better than he ever could. So the day when Douglas slaps him across the face he isn't surprised, everybody else hit him, why should'n Douglas?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, this is my first CP fill and I haven't really gotten the hang of the voices yet so if anything seems out of character please let me know. And before we start I should mention that English isn't my first language and that I'm dyslectic so apologises for spelling and grammatical errors **

When Martin was six years old he told his father about his biggest dream; wanting to be a aeroplane. His father had responded by laughing so hard he almost fell off his chair and then told Martin to forget his stupid dream.

The first time someone hit Martin was when he was eight years old. He was running around the house pretending to be a plane and accidentally knocked over a flower vase. Martin, who was clumsy by nature, told his mother what he had done and she slapped him square across the face and yelled at him for being such a useless child.

At the age of fifteen Martin was a so afraid of being beaten for his mistakes he didn't dare speak to anyone, and the few times he did he was often stuttering some kind of home he made sure to do everything his parent asked for as quickly and thoroughly as possible but there was always something wrong, something worth being punished for. As the years past by he started believing in the words told to him. _Useless, failure, worthless._

So it didn't really come as a surprise when Douglas one day snapped and slapped him across the face.

The silence on the flight deck was deafening. Douglas couldn't believe what had just happened.

He had slapped the on of the kindest and most hardworking persons he knew, and for what? A silly little fight that had got a bit out of proportion. Sure Martin could be an annoying little prick sometimes, rambling on and on about how Douglas didn't follow this and that rule and so on and so on, but he wasn't a person worth hitting. And Douglas certainly wasn't a violent man.

"Oh, god Martin. I'm so sorr-"

"Oh it's fine Douglas"

"No, it's not Martin. I shouldn't have hit you-"

"No, no,no. It's fine. All fine. Really, doesn't matter. All fine."

Douglas watched as Martin sucked in a trembling breath and walked away, shoulders stiff and gait fast.

Well, wasn't he stuck in a shitload of crap right now. How was he supposed to earn the Captain's trust after this. Douglas rubbed his face and let out a deep sigh. He supposed he could go easy on the teasing for a few days, and allow Martin to win a few word games.

When Douglas thought back on their argument later that evening there was something that hit him. When he had slapped Martin, the captain hadn't looked surprised, or shocked or any of the other expected expressions. Instead Martin had looked like he had expected it, and then he had waved it off as nothing before Douglas could get an apology out.

Douglas stomach twisted at the thought so he quickly pushed the memory in to the back of his mind. No Martin was fine, he had told him so. There was nothing to worry about.

**I'm going to London on Monday so I won't have next part up until next Thursday. Reviews are always welcome**

** /Phin**


	2. Chapter 2

During the days that followed Martin appeared to be sulking rather bad, he barely talked or looked at Douglas during the flight and he almost run to his van when they returned to the airfield after a flight. On the fourth day Douglas confronted Martin about this, telling him that he was childish for acting like he did when Douglas had apologised to him multiple times.

The following day Martin acted more cheerful, asking polite questions and smiling a lot, in a very un-Martin kind of way, something which unnerved Douglas quite a lot.

"Sir seems to be in an awfully cheery mood today."

"Sorry"

Douglas eyed his coworker suspiciously.

"Martin, I know your people skills are nothing in compare to my own but you _do_ know that you don't have to apologise for being in a good mood"

"Right, Sorry"

Douglas sighed and rolled his eyes. Martin was gawky at the best of times but this must be an all time low.

A few moments later Carolyn burst though the cockpit door, looking like she might explode.

"Douglas, _why_ are there boxes of licorice in the overhead compartments?"

"Ah,Carolyn. Always a pleasure to see you."

Carolyn sent Douglas a look that would've made Martin insist that he got smoke in his eyes again.

"Licorice, in the overhead compartments."

"Well Carolyn you see, this isn't any kind of licorice, this is salty licorice. And it can only be found in Sweden. As it is Elizabeth, my daughter, happen to be extremely fond of this kind of licorice and as her birthday is coming up this weekend I thought this was a perfect birthday present."

Despite what Douglas thought was an excellent explanation Carolyn wasn't pleased.

"So you decided to give her enough licorice for a lifetime?"

"A-ha but here's the clever bit! Since salty licorice only can be found in Sweden, and since there are a lot of people outside Sweden who enjoy salty licorice, especially one of my i_friends_/i, I am making all them happy by bringing them salty licorice. And because they're so horrendously happy they repay me byi _giving_ /ime, oh I don't know, 50 bottles of scotch."

"And you just happen to know the perfect man to give these 50 bottles of scotch to and he repays you the favor and so on and so on?"

"Spot on Carolyn."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, so you're saying you're using my jet to smuggle licorice, of all things, because some friend of yours will give you some scotch. Do you have any idea of how much the extra weight costs?" Douglas opened his mouth to respond but Carolyn's focus was now on Martin.

"Did you know about this Martin?"

Martin visibly shrunk before whispering "Sorry Carolyn"

"You both know this will go on your paychecks" She pointed a threatening finger to each of the pilots before exiting the cockpit.

"Sorry Douglas"

Douglas sighed and mentally counted to ten. Even though he seemed calm and carefree on the surface, he was this close to snapping and having Martin apologise once again was not helping.

His day had started of bad and things had just gone downhill from there on. Starting with his car not starting, a far to cheery Arthur wondering why you heard it when something made a noise, a even more cheery Captain annoying him to no end, a bad landing in Sweden, loading twenty boxes of licorice on GERTI, a now apologetic Captain and then a furious Carolyn as icing on the cake. The last thing he needed now was Martin apologising and making him feel guilty for putting Martin in trouble.

"Martin, once again. You don't have to apologise,-"

"Right sorry"

"For the love of god Martin will you stop apologising and start acting like a normal person!"

"..."

"Thank you" Douglas had to admit that after that rather embarrassing outburst he did feel better, He turned his head to look at Martin and his gut twisted with guilt once again. Martin lips were drawn tight and he was blinking far to rapidly for it to be normal.

Sighing deeply one more time and promising himself to pay Martin's share of the weight cost Douglas felt once again in control.

"Say Sir, how about a game of celebrities with name like superheroes?"

****I know both Douglas and Carolyn seem like douchebags in this part but it was necessary for the story.****

**Thank you all for the alerts and favourites, I'm amazed that you actually read my story :D**

**The next part will be up in about 3 days**

**/Phin**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello again. I need to add trigger warning for Graphic Depictions Of Violence in this chapter, just so you know. Now on with the story **

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><p>Martin drove home that day feeling more worthless than he had done in years. He could feel Carolyn's disappointed look, burning him, making him want to disappear. He could hear Douglas outburst ringing in his ears<p>

_For the love of god Martin will you stop apologising and start acting like a normal person!_

A normal person, why couldn't he just be normal. Why did he have to be a failure?

By the time he reached home Douglas' voice was replaced by his mother's, (_You broke my vase you useless child! It was a gift from your father!_) his father's, ( _You got an D in PE! *Slap* How can you even be my child when you're such a failure! *Slap* You're an embarrassment to the name Crieff_) Simon's (_Oh god Martin, not only are you the most awkward and clumsy person I know but now you're also the most pathetic. And people wonder why you don't have any friends!_) and everyone else's whom he had ever failed.

When he finally had climbed the stair to his attic he walked straight to bed and collapsed on it. His throat felt impossibly tight and his stomach had somehow imploded and all that was left was just a black hole of pain and self-hatred.

He had deserved the slap hadn't he. Of course he had, he deserved every beating he had ever got and he knew that. He had just hoped that maybe, i_maybe_/i, things were different with Douglas.

A violent sob shook his body and he realised that quiet tears had been streaming down his face for several minutes. How pathetic wasn't that!

He rolled over to his side and curled into fetal position, allowing the tears to run freely down his cheeks. As many times before Martin desperately wished for someone to loved him and to lay down beside him, holding him and comforting him, telling him that everything was going to be okay and that he wasn't useless at all.

He was fifteen years old.

He was in his childhood bedroom.

He's had this dream before.

The sun was shining through the window, illuminating the figure on the bed. Martin Crieff was laying on his back reading a battered copy of '_Aircrafts in the 1950's_' and he was feeling rather content with himself, a rare occurrence. His room was clean, his homework was done and he was alone in the house. No teasing siblings, no cruel parents, no tiptoeing around in fear of a beating. it was just him, his music and his book.

He sighed happily and cast a glance to the alarm clock on his bedside table. 16:02. His father should be home in half an hour, better start with dinner then.

He turned of the music (_The Beatles- Help!,_ his father hated them) and slowly made his way to the kitchen where he began chopping vegetables.

His mother and siblings were out of town this week (he hadn't been invited) so he had spent quite a lot of time home alone. His father had ignored him the whole week, well with the exception of Monday night when Martin had dropped a glass. He still had cuts on his finger from when father pressed his hands in the glass shards but they didn't hurt that much, and besides, he had deserved it that time.

Anyhow it was nice to have some time alone. He felt much more at ease when he was alone, there was no way he could embarrass someone, or fail someone or any of the other things he aways did when he wasn't alone.

Humming a cheery tone to himself Martin checked on the stew currently simmering on the stove. It was nearly done, and perfect timing to, father should be home any minute now. If things continued this way he would be ignored today as well.

He heaved the pot off the stove and began walking towards the kitchen table.

"MARTIN ERIC CRIEFF!"

With a yelp Martin dropped the pot and saw in slow motion how the very expensive Le Creuset fell to the floor, shattering into a million pieces and sending stew all over the floor and cupboards.

His fathers hurried steps came closer and a furious roar came with them. "WHAT have you done to your mother's car young man!"

Mr Crieff rounded the corner to the kitchen and stopped dead in his track. The whole kitchen was a mess, broken china on the floor and stew splashed on the white cupboards. And in the middle of it stood Martin, oven mittens still his hands and a expression of a deer caught headlights.

"YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT! I come home to find that you've not only scratched YOUR MOTHER'S CAR, but you've also decided to DESTROY OUR KITCHEN!" Mr Crieff was literally shaking with rage and when he began moving towards Martin he broke his son's trance

"I-I-I didn't do anything to m-mother's car"

"Don't LIE to me!"

"I s-swear father, I haven't-, I wouldn't-, Oh god" Martin's back made contact with the kitchen wall and he found that he had nowhere to escape. His father was still moving towards him, his eyes burning with rage.

Mr Crieff raised one hand and smacked Martin, the force causing him to fall over. A shoe collided with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. A crocked sob shook his body but he wasn't going to cry. No, wasn't.

"Stand up" Martin, who was still gasping for breath, tried to force himself to stand up but his body wouldn't obey him.

"I SAID STAND UP YOU FUCKING SISSY" His father grabbed him by the hair and forcefully pulled him upwards. Martin desperately tried to get foothold on the slippery floor and somehow managed to push himself into standing position. His father's arm was pressed up against his chest and his face was barely inches away from Martin's.

"Now, tell me why you scratched your mother's car and destroyed our kitchen?" Mr Crieff asked, a sadistic smile on his lips.

"I-I-I didn't, it must have been a-a-a neighbour or-" Martin's head was yanked forwards and then, with a sickening crack, banged against the wall. It felt like his head had been cracked in two and that the only thing holding it together was his father's vice like grip.

"I SAID don't lie to me"

"I-I'm not" Martin whimpered, praying that his father would believe him.

"What if I break your fingers then. One by one, until you tell me the truth."

"No" Martin whispered, but his father only nodded, still smiling. "No" another whisper. Ever so slowly his father let go of his hair and took hold of his wrist, forcing it up against the wall next to his face.

He had never been so scared in his entire life, it felt like someone had ripped out his inside, grounded it and the pushed it back inside of him. He couldn't look away from the hand next to him even though it was the last thing he wanted to see.

His father now changed position, using the hand that still pressed Martin firmly to the wall to hold his son's hand still. The other one, almost gently, caressed the fingers.

"I'm telling the truth father I didn't-" Martin had clenched his hand into a fist when Mr Crieff had touched his fingers, but the older man was now forcing his hand open. "No. Father no" He was panicking by now, breath coming in small short gasps. When his father grabbed hold of his index finger he began shaking. "Father please!" The older man turned his head and looked at his son. Tears where streaming down Martin's cheeks and he looked like he was about to pass out.

"Please"

*Snap*

Martin stared at his finger in disbelieve. He had actually done it, he had actually broken his finger. Martin continued to stare at the oddly bent finger. It didn't hurt, or did it. He wasn't sure.

When his father grasped his middle finger panic took hold of him again.

"I confess, I confess! I did it, all of it! I scratched the car and I dropped the stew and I destroyed the kitchen."I did it. Please father, don't" He pleaded, not able to control his fear.

He collapsed on the floor when his father let go of him, no longer having the strength to hold himself up.

"You ungrateful little brat" Mr Crieff turned around and began walking. "Clean up this mess" He ordered before exiting the kitchen, leaving Martin quietly sobbing and cradling his broken finger.

Martin awoke with a gasp, flinging himself upwards and almost falling out of bed.

It had felt so real, the texture of the wall against back, the smell of the stew, the pain. The memory was still as vivid in his mind as it had been seconds after the actual assault.

He brought his shaking hands up to his face, studying his right index finger. After... the accident as he called it in his mind, he had been to afraid to tell anyone and had therefore splinted the finger himself. The finger had healed but it had never been quite the same, always pointing a little to the right.

He let out a shaky sigh which turned into a sob, which turned into more and soon he was crying inconsolably, hugging his pillow to his chest and biting down on it to stop himself from making to much noise.

He eventually calmed down enough to fall asleep but when he woke up the next morning the uneasy feeling in his stomach was still present.

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><p><strong>Hoped you liked it :) There is plenty more to come. <strong>

**Reviews are love 3**

**/Phin**


	4. Chapter 4

"Bruce Banner"

"Sue Storm"

"Greta Garbo"

"Ah, good one Sir"

"hehe" There it was again, that nervous laughter.

Martin had been acting strange all week. He was still the same gawky, stuttering, clumsy little Captain but he was slightly off. Douglas couldn't put his finger on what it was but it had started after he yelled at Martin for excusing himself every five minute. Argh, that guilt again. He had to let this go, Martin was perfectly fine he was just a bit...shaken that's all.

"Hi Chaps! Coffee's ready." Arthur entered the cockpit, two cups of coffee, well Douglas couldn't really call it coffee, in his hands.

"What are you playing today?"

"People with both first- and surname starting with the same letter. Bonus points for real persons."

"Brilliant. Oh oh oh! Peter Pan!"

"Oh sorry, already taken. But Arthur, do refresh my memory, wasn't we supposed to have coffee forty five minutes ago and not five minutes before we reach Fitton?"

"Yes, I started making coffee but then I had this brilliant idea. You know how coffee's all bitter and brown and disgusting and all that. So I thought what if I switched the coffee-" Arthur was interrupted by Martin gagging and coughing rather violently on his coffee.

"What is this!" he exclaimed and stared at his cup as if trying to erase it from existence.

"Well as I was saying. I switched the coffee, well most of it, against things that taste great."

"Such as?"

"Brilliant stuff! Muffins, sugar, m&m, fizzy yogurt." Arthur was practically beaming, thinking he made the pilots a favor. Douglas, on the other hand, made a mental note to always ask for the exact ingredients in everything Arthur brought him from now on and Martin looked like he might be sick.

"You alright skip, you look a bit...greenish."

"Yes, fine." He coughed a few more times and the silently handed his cup back to Arthur, Douglas did the same moments later. The pause that followed was long enough for it to become awkward before Martin decided to call Fitton airfield. "Fitton Airfield this is golf-tango-india requesting a runway"

"Golf-tango-india this is Fitton airfield directing you to runway 1-A"

"Roger that"

They began their descend when suddenly a strong wind shook the plane, tossing them 50ft to the left. Martin, who was completely caught off guard, pulled hard at the controls, fighting to remain in control.

"Weather report Douglas" he called, still fighting to get the plane back on track.

" Very Strong side winds from here to Fitton airfield, you want me to take control?"

"No! I have control. Arthur, get back to the cabin and strap yourself in"

Arthur, who had fallen over, scrambled to his feet and nearly fell over once more when another wind made the plane tip dangerously low to the left.

"Arthur NOW!"

"Martin, do you want me to-"

"I have Control!"

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><p>"YOU DID WHAT!"<p>

"I-I'm sorry Carolyn, but!"

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF HOW MUCH THIS WILL COST!" Carolyn gave Martin a glare that seemed to freeze his core.

The landing had gone rather well considering the circumstances, until an unsuspected gust of wind had made Martin lose control over GERTI. In pure desperation he had landed in the grass field surrounding the runway, taking down a weather station in the process. Thankfully neither GERTI or any of it's passengers had been harmed, but the weather station was broken beyond repair.

"Look Carolyn I had no other choice but-"

"You had plenty of other choices, you could have aborted the landing and tried again! You could have requested a weather report and made sure you knew under what circumstances you were to land on! You could have let Douglas, the better pilot of the two of you take control instead of trying to show off!"

Martin looked on the verge off tears and fiddled self-consciously with the hem of his jacket.

"Look Martin" Carolyn continued in a kinder voice. " I know how much you love flying so I know how much it would hurt you if MJN-air went out of business so I suggest that from now on you think these things through and let Douglas take the more difficult landings."

Tears has started falling down the captains face now and he was trembling all over. Despite this he still held himself straight and answered with a steady voice;

"Yes father, It won't happen again"

It was like someone had switched on the lights in Douglas' head. Every little piece of the puzzle that had been Martin since the 'incident' as he refereed to the slap in his mind, fell into place and reviled the horrible, heart wrecking truth. Martin had been abused by his father. How could he had missed this, there had been signs. Always so eager to please, never complaining, reacting like he was used to it when the 'incident' happened. Oh god, poor poor Martin.

"Father?" Carolyn who knew of neither the slap nor Martin's strange behaviour looked at her pilot, baffled.

Martin looked almost as confused as Carolyn for a moment before realising his slip. "NO! Carolyn! I mean Carolyn."

Looking at the fear written in Martin's features, a new feeling filled Douglas. Hate, pure burning hate. He hated Martin's father for hurting him, he hated Carolyn for scolding Martin for something that wasn't his fault. But most of all, he hated himself for not. Seeing. The. Signs.

In an effort of comfort he placed a hand on Martin's shoulder but the pilot recoiled so violently he almost fell over trying to get away.

"Please don't" He whispered and another wave of guilt washed over Douglas.

"Don't what?" but the words had barely left his mouth before Martin had fled the office, leaving one guilty feeling first officer and one very confused CEO.

"What' wrong with Martin?" When Douglas didn't answer Carolyn continued" Douglas, I may be many things but stupid is not one of them and I know that you know what's wrong with Martin so there is no point in denying it. Now answer my question, what is wrong with Martin?"

She looked at Douglas with stern eyes and he knew there was no getting out of this now.

He took a calming breath before recounting the last few weeks and his new found discovery of Martin's past. By the time he finished Carolyn was pale as a ghost.

"Oh Martin." She sighed heavily and run a hand through her hair. "What should we do Douglas?"

"I don't know" Douglas let out a breath and rubbed his face. What a mess, and all was his fault. If he just hadn't lost his temper.

"Should we go to the police?"

"No, it wouldn't make any difference, his dad's dead remember. Besides, we don't know if this actually is the case."

"What other explanation could there be?"

"Look Carolyn. I do not know anymore than you but making the wrong accusations could only make things worse"

"Right. We'll have to ask him" She took a collecting breath "I'll ask him tomorrow."

"No offence Carolyn but you're as delicate as a steamroller when it comes to situations like this."

"You're not not much better yourself. Remember Oxford Douglas"

"I know, but I'm his friend. He trusts me...or so I hope."

Carolyn thought this through for a moment before nodding.

"Alright, you ask him." Douglas nodded in agreement. He had started this, it was only fair of him to make it right

"But no telling Arthur, I don't think his worldview could survive something like this."

"Yes, that's probably for the best. Carolyn... Arthur's father didn't-"

"Oh heaven's no! My ex-husband may have been a bad man but he wasn't cruel."

Douglas let out a breath and looked at Carolyn. They would get through this, if not for them then for Martin.

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><p><strong>Hello again, this was rather quick update, wasn't it?<strong>

**As usual I hope you enjoyed the story :D**

**Review as lovely ;)**

**/Phin**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again. sorry for the delay but real life has been bothering me so I haven't had time to update.  
>But anyway, here's the new part. Enjoy<strong>

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><p>Martin felt relatively calm. The trip to Edinburgh had gone well and Douglas hadn't mentioned his slip from yesterday. He had of course made sure to not give Douglas any reason to mention it and he was planning on keeping it that way. A small voice in his head reminded him that all his plans so far had gone <em>spectacularly well<em> but he chose to ignore that.

Now, on their way back to fitton, Douglas looked rather uncomfortable. Martin supposed that was his fault, he hadn't been the most talkative person today so he understood if Douglas was tired of him when he deliberately lost the word games. But it wasn't like Douglas would hit him again, right? Well he supposed a conversation couldn't kill him. Better safe than sorry.

"Douglas, how's-"

"Martin I need to-" Douglas started at the same time. The two pilots stared at each other a few seconds before Martin turned his head, afraid that if he continued staring Douglas would be mad. His mother hadn't liked it when you stared.

"You go first."

"No, no I-"

"I didn't have anything important to say anyway Douglas."

Douglas looked at him for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Martin, about yesterday." Martin visibly tightened his grip on the controls." Carolyn and I have been thinking." Off course they had. Probably thought he was useless, they should, he was." And we want to ask you something." Martin took a breath and braced himself for the question that never came. Slowly lifting his eyes from the controls he looked over at Douglas. His co-pilot looked at loss for words, which frightened him more than anything Douglas might have said.

"Martin, I want you to know that I am your friend, and you can tell me everything" He took a deep breath before continuing. " Martin, did your father...hurt you, when you were younger?"

Martin hesitated a second to long before answering.

"No, no no of course not. I mean...No he didn't. Nope" Douglas knew. Martin could tell. But he couldn't know. He had been so careful. Has the plane really been this warm a second ago?

"Martin, I won't be mad"

"NO! He didn't." What was Douglas going to think about Martin now, he was going to think he was pathetic that was sure, and worthless. Oh god.

"Martin please"

"I'm not going to talk about this anymore"

"Yes you are"

"No"

"Martin!" Suddenly Martin's feelings of uncertainly, fright and self loathing disappeared and fury filled him. Who did Douglas think he was, prying in Martin's private life and then expecting him to be okay with it. And he had told Carolyn as well, couldn't they see that this was a secret he had fought all his life to keep hidden and now they were shouting it out to the world. How dared they. They had everything they wanted, they were happy, and they had to rub it in his face. Look at us, so happy, so perfect. My parents loved me, yours didn't. Ha ha ha.

"SHUT UP DOUGLAS. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT WHAT SO EVER TO ASK ME SUCH A THING!" His breath came in short shallow gasp and he might be crying but he didn't care. "So, I suggest you don't question me about this again." He swallowed and wiped his eyes.

Just when Douglas opened his mouth to speak there was a knock on the cabin door.

"You alright in there chaps. 'Cause I heard screaming." Arthur cautiously opened the door and peered inside. "I've got coffee" The awkward silence continued for a moment longer before Douglas spoke in his normal self-loving way.

"Arthur, what innovative ingredients do you present us with today? Might one of them be coffee?"

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><p>The subject wasn't brought up during the rest of the flight and when they had landed back in Fitton Martin had drove away before Douglas had even left the plane.<p>

Douglas felt like he had left his stomach in Edinburgh. Way to go Richardson, make him loose all the confidence he has in you, that'll make Martin tell you about his childhood. Fuck.

He looked up and saw Carolyn walking towards him, face stern but eyes concerned.

"Martin?" She questioned hopefully but when Douglas shook his head her face fell.

"I screw up" He groaned

"I told you I should have asked him, I knew you couldn't-"

"It wasn't my fault. I asked in a kind and-"

"Kind? you call that kind! The boy literally ran away as soon as he was out of the plane. I need two pilots Douglas!"

"Is that all you care about! Whether you have two pilots or not! It doesn't matter to you that Martin was beaten, _beaten Carolyn_, as a child?"

"OFF COURSE I CARE ABOUT HIM DOUGLAS! HE IS LIKE A SON TO ME!"

"WELL, IT DOESN'T-"

"Hello Mum. Gosh, everybody is shouting today." Douglas was cut short by a smiling Arthur, seeming as happy as always but there was something in his voice that betrayed how uneasy he felt about the fighting.

"Has something happened to Martin?"

"Arthur, dear boy. Not now"

"Is Martin okay, is he sad? He sounded sad when I heard him shouting at Douglas."

"Arthur, I don't know how to tell you this" Carlyn looked her son in the eyes before continuing." Martin's dad wasn't very nice with Martin when he was young."

"Like dad?"

"Yes, like dad. But...a lot more not nice." The message seemed to sink in and Arthur slowly nodded a few times before asking.

"Why are you not comforting him?"

"What?"

"You know he's sad, and you know why he's sad. So you should be comforting him"

"Arthur, it's not that simple-"

"If I were sad I would want someone to comfort me and hug me and tell me everything's going to be okay"

Douglas sighed and looked at the oblivious boy in front of him. Could it really be that simple? He repeated Arthur's words in his head. Well he was really out of his depth and Arthur did have a point.

"Alright, what harm could it do?" Slowly he began walking towards his nexus. Wishing with all his heart that Martin would be alright when they found him.

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><p><strong>I just want to thank everyone who's commented and alertedfavourited.**  
><strong>Thank you so very much 3<strong>

**/Phin**


	6. Chapter 6

**Trigger warning for child abuse/neglect**

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><p>He needed to breathe, everything was going to be fine if he just remembered to breathe properly. In through nose(1...2...3), out through mouth (1...2...3), in through nose(1...2...3), out through mouth(1...2...3). Oh god it wasn't working.<p>

Martin sat on the floor in his attic, trying very hard not to have a panic attack. His world was spinning and his ears were ringing and he thought he might be sick any moment. He was clutching his hair in a desperate try to ground himself, to stop his world from being turned upside down.

The pressure in the box in his mind were he kept his childhood had increased ever since Douglas hit him and he was quite sure it was just a matter of hours, maybe even minutes before it was going to burst and hell would break loose.

Martin had spent the last sixteen years deliberately not thinking of his childhood, he had stuffed every memory in his box and then hid it in a corner of his mind. Time to time something slipped through and he would be rather shaken for a few days but then regain control. But that was the thing, he could hardly handle one thing slipping through, if his box were to burst, Martin was quite sure he was going to burst with it.

His fight with Douglas hadn't exactly helped. Douglas was probably furious with him for talking back, his father would have been. Would have punched or kicked him or...or. GOD! He couldn't think about that, he needed to calm down. In through nose, out through mouth, in through nose, out through mouth.

Suddenly a memory broke lose from the box and Martin was no longer lying curled up on the floor in an old attic. He was nine years old and sitting in his kitchen, eating a cracker.

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><p><strong>Reviews are always welcomed<strong>

**/Phin**

The cracker in his hand was a chocolate one, his favourite kind. He was careful not to get anything on his clothes, father was having a client over for dinner and he needed to be clean and on his best behaviour. He wasn't going to disappoint his parents this time.

"Hello Martin" Simon and Caitlin said in unison.

"Hello" Martin squirmed a bit under his siblings gaze. He didn't like it when they teamed up, it always meant trouble for him.

"Who gave you that cracker?" Simon asked, flashing his brother a fake smile.

"Mother"

"Oh, mummy did?"

"Yes"

"I don't believe you"

"She did. I promise" She had, Martin knew. She had told him to sit on this chair and keep quite. She then gave him a cracker and went to change. Why didn't Simon believe him

"We think you nicked it" Caitlin provoked.

"I didn't."

"You did"

"Didn't"

"Did!"

"Didn't!"

"Martin!" His mother's voice called from the living room." Bring me my tea cup"

Martin obeyed, slowly slid down from the kitchen chair and walked over to the counter where his mother's tea had been brewing. Caitlin and Simon had run out to their 'mummy' when she had called, forgetting about the cracker.

He walked slowly to the living room, careful not to spill a single drop, mother didn't like that. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, when he turned around mother was embracing his older siblings. Martin diverted his eyes to the floor, he didn't want to see that, it hurt to much.

"Well you lousy boy" Martin looked up again. His mother was glaring at him from across the room. "Bring me my tea"

He carefully walked forwards, distinctively not looking at neither Caitlin nor Simon, which was terribly unlucky. Because if he had he would have noticed Simon sticking out his leg to trip him, causing him to fall over, smash the cup and spill tea all over Mrs Crieff.

The room was deadly quiet for a moment before Simon and Caitlin burst out laughing. Martin's mother, however, did not laugh. Martin cringed in shame and embarrassment when he heard his siblings laugh. He stayed on the floor where he had fallen, not daring to look at his mother, afraid that is he moved she would wake from the shock and hurt him.

"YOU TWO, GET OUT!" Caitlin and Simon stopped laughing and hurriedly made their way out of the room.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"I'm sorry mother, i-it was an accident" Martin had learnt the hard way that blaming his siblings would only make things worse. It was his fault after all, if he had looked where he was going he wouldn't have tripped.

"AN ACCIDENT! LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO MY DRESS!" Martin looked. There was a big stain on the skirt where the tea had landed.

"I-I-I'm sorry mother. I did-didn't mean to- aup!" His mother had grabbed him by the collar and was now dragging him out of the room. He struggled to get to his feet but every time he got foothold his mother yanked at his collar and lost it.

They went through the hallway where Simon and Caitlin were giggling, up the stairs and stopped in front of the cleaning cupboard. Mrs Crieff unlocked the door, threw her son inside and snarled at him.

"You will stay in here until your father or I decides otherwise. This should teach you not to ruin other peoples clothes"

"Mother I'm sorry-" She slammed the door in his face and Martin could hear the key turning, locking the door. He stared transfixed on the door, had she just locked him inside a cupboard?

When he heard his mother's footstep walking away he began pounding on the door, screaming at his mother.

"Mother please! I'm sorry! Let me out! I promise I'll be good. I promise..." His words died away as he sank down on the ground. The cupboard wasn't big, a square meter at most, and he was beginning to feel claustrophobic. The walls were closing in on him, threatening to crush him. He curled into a ball, hugging his up drawn legs close to his chest and burying his face in his knees. Screwing his eyes shut he wished for a miracle, for when he opened his eyes he would no longer be inside the horrible cupboard.

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><p>A 25 years older Martin opened his eyes and found himself on the floor. Relieved of not being inside the cupboard he sat up. His breath was still panicked and his cheeks were stained with tears.<p>

They had let him out of the cupboard after a day and he had been so scared he hadn't spoken for a week. The cupboard punishments continued after that, they seemed to be Mrs Crieff's favourite. The longest he had stayed in the cupboard was a week, only being let out to eat and use the toilet.

This had still been better than his father's punishments. When he was in the cupboard he could pretend he was playing hide and seek with a family who loved him, pretend that when they found him him mother would hug him and his father would ruffle his hair, telling him what a good son he was.

His father's punishments always involved punching or kicking or being thrown across the room. He would usually be sore for several days but there was rarely any lasting damage. Only once had he needed to go to the hospital, when he had broken his leg falling down the stairs ( he had been pushed but it wasn't as if someone would care if he told them that.).

He curled into himself once more, feeling miserable. Nobody would care if he were to die here, in an old damp attic. They had been right, his parents, Simon, Caitlin, he was a failure. He could feel it in every bone in his body. _Failure, useless, worthless, embarrassment to the human race_. He should kill himself, save the world from the burden called Martin Crieff. He didn't do any good, he had no-one who cared and there was no-one around to miss him.

He thought briefly of MJN, of Douglas, Arthur and Carolyn. The air-dot wouldn't survive without him. Oh who was he kidding, he and his failures probably cost more than hiring another pilot would. That settled it then,there was no reason for him still living. He would kill himself.

With his mind set he curled into a ball once more, crying his eyes out. He didn't cry for long though, because suddenly there was a sharp knock on his door.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello again. Here is the next part where I (hopefully) make it all okay again.**

**Enjoy**

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><p>The ride to Martin was longer than Douglas remembered it and with every house they passed he became more and more worried. Wondering if this really was the right choice, if it really would help Martin if they came.<p>

When they finally arrived at the student home Douglas practically ran out of the car, jerked the door open and sprinted up the stairs.

One half of his mind was filled with horrible images of Martin slicing his wrist open or standing on a bridge somewhere, ready to jump or something else the stupid boy would do in his distressed state of mind. The other half was telling him to stop being such a mother hen and to stop worrying. He was jumping to conclusions.

He cleared his head,took a calming breath, raised his fist and banged the door three times.

"Martin, are you there?... It's me Douglas" He tried when there was no answer. Suddenly the door jerked open and an impassive Martin stood in front of took Douglas by surprise and he stared dumbly at his captain, shocked by the calm expression on his face.

"Martin-"

"What do you want Douglas?" The captain's voice was raspy and when Douglas looked closer he could clearly see the red puffy eyes and the dried tears on Martin's cheeks.

"Oh thank heaven." Carolyn came running up the stairs, Arthur at her heels, and stopped next to Douglas. Her eyes met Martin and she let out a sad sigh, mother instincts kicking in, and reached out a hand to comfort him.

"Oh Martin"

"No Carolyn!" Martin backed away from Carolyn's hand and tried to close the door but Douglas slammed his hand against the door, holding it open.

"Martin, listen to us-" He began in a voice he though comforting.

"I don't need your pity!" Martin spat and tried to close the door again but Douglas held it firmly in place. With one hand keeping the door open Douglas moved forwards, trying to calm the now agitated captain.

"NO! Don't touch me!" Martin stumbled backwards and took cover behind his kitchen table. Douglas couldn't believe his ears. Did Martin really think he would hurt him again? He felt like he might be sick.

He felt Carolyn push his frozen form aside and enter the attic.

"Martin, you need to calm down. We're not going to hurt you" She urged, careful not corner him or make him feel threatened. Douglas had joined Carolyn and was nodding slowly at her words.

"Oh yeah, what are you going to do then? Lock me in a cupboard and leave me there to rot?"

"We're only trying to help-" Douglas began when Martin suddenly hurtled a glass across the room, missing Douglas by only inches and shattering against the wall.

"DON'T PRETEND LIKE YOU CARE ABOUT ME!"

"Martin-"

"NO! NO ONE CARES ABOUT ME!" He shrieked, shaking with rage.

Douglas looked at Martin, his friend, with a heavy heart. He wanted to destroy the person making Martin feel like this, he wanted to hurt him just as bad as he had hurt Martin. But that would have to wait, Martin needed him, even if the boy himself wouldn't admit it.

Remembering what his therapist had said to him after his first marriage ( _Better out than in _) he asked.

"And what makes you think that?"

"BECAUSE I'M USELESS!" I'M A WORTHLESS LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT, GOOD FOR NOTHING!" Martin's voice broke at the end and he hurtled another glass at Douglas, screaming form the top of his lungs.

There was a heavy silence when neither of them moved, Douglas to scared for what his movement might provoke, Carolyn not knowing what to do and Martin afraid that if he moved he might fall apart.

"No one's ever loved me." Martin continued after a while, voice full of unshed tears. "No matter how hard I try or how many times I try...people still hate me. I really try, all the time. Try to be less pathetic, more confident, not to stutter. I still mess it up, I still somehow manage to make thinks worse, to make people hate me. You know, I managed to get my parents to hate me before my sixth birthday." He let out a laugh as if there was something funny about the situation." I didn't even get to call them 'mum' or 'dad' it was always 'mother' or 'father' to me. I am _such_ a failure, I couldn't even get my own parents to love me."

Carolyn let out a shuddering breath next to Douglas, who was feeling sick to his stomach with guilt. He was always poking fun at Martin, teasing him about his stutter and awkward behaviour. Oh god, had he only known.

Arthur, who had been watching silently by the door, slowly walked up to Martin and looked him deeply in the eyes. The pair stared at each other before Arthur pulled the trembling form of Martin Crieff into a gentle hug.

"But _we_ love you skip"

Martin visibly broke down at these words, clutching at the steward's shirt like it was the only thing keeping him alive while tears streamed down his face. He was shaking so hard Arthur had problems with keeping him upright, after a minute he gave up and gently rearranged them so he was sitting on the floor with Martin in his lap, crying his eyes out.

Both Carolyn and Douglas joined them on the floor a moment later, Carolyn whispering soothing words in Martin's ear and Douglas squeezing Arthur's shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

* * *

><p>Douglas was by the counter preparing tea while Carolyn and Arthur were sitting with a still sniffling Martin by the kitchen table. It had taken Martin almost fifteen minutes to calm down and he had since then kept very quiet.<p>

"Thank you." He suddenly whispered." For...it was, nice"

"Always Martin" Carolyn him took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

They sat in silence for a minute, waiting for the kettle to boil, before Douglas rose from his new found seat at the kitchen table and continued his tea making. After a minute he handed out cups to everyone around the table, stopping to give Martin a pat on the back

"Do you want to talk about it?" Carolyn asked. Martin was clutching the cup in an attempt to stop his shaking hands, to many memories haunting him. He shook his head and sniffled a few times before he let out a choked sob

"They never hit Simon or Caitlin."

"Oh Martin" Carolyn pulled Martin into a hug and began rocking him back and forth, gently patting his back as tears soaked her blouse.

"I-I-I always did my best."

"We know"

"Why didn't they love m-me?"

"I don't know Martin"

"I just...just wanted them to be proud of me"

"They should be"

"Martin" Douglas reached forwards and grabbed Martin's shoulder. Martin looked up at him, eyes red from crying, and eased his grip on Carolyn. "You are the most awkward person I know, you always manage to screw things up and you can be really irritating from time to time. I know I always point out these things and tease you about it but to be completely fair to myself, you are probably the strongest person I know.

It took you seven goes to get you license and a lot of people see this as a failure but quite frankly, it's one hell of an achievement. There are so many out there who would just say 'sod it' and quit after the third time, I know I would have. But you didn't Martin. You fought and fought and you never gave up, and when you finally managed to get your license you get a job, as a _Captain_, at this little crappy airdot company, Oh shut it Carolyn, where you don't even get paid and you have to live in this tiny attic, you still. Don't. Give. Up! And if that isn't strong then I don't know what is. And Martin, I want you to know, I would be proud to have you as my son"

Martin had let go of Carolyn and was now staring intensely at his tea but Douglas could see the smile tugging at his lips and the slight blush creeping up his cheeks, which was good enough for Douglas.

Carolyn cleared her throat and Martin tore his eyes from the cup.

"Although I agree on Douglas on the you being irritating part I also would be proud to have you as a son"

"Me too skip. Though I don't think you could be my son because you're older than me but you could be my brother, and that would be brilliant"

Martin let out a weak laugh at this and smiled. Maybe it wasn't so bad to be alive after all.

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><p><strong>So that was basically it. All that is left now is an epilogue which will be up on Monday.<strong>

**Please tell me what you thought about this fic. Constructive criticism is just as welcomed as keysmashing ;)**

**/Love Phin**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, sorry it's late. I was so exhausted when I came home yesterday so I fell asleep before I could upload this chapter. But here it is after all, the last chapter. Enjoy :)**

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><p>The first months after Martin's breakdown had been horrible. Douglas had forced Martin to move in with him after he had found the captain drunk outside his door at three in the morning. The nights that followed had left Douglas with a severe sleep deprivation, but not as severe as Martin's. Martin had woken up, screaming and crying from yet another bad nightmare every night, and it took Douglas almost half an hour to get him to calm down.<p>

After a week he had offered to pay for therapy sessions but Martin had blankly refused, telling him that he was fine and that he just needed a while to adjust. Douglas had had to physically drag him to the first appointment and an hour later a shaking, red eyed Martin walked out the therapist's door and collapsed in Douglas' arms.

It had been decided that the sessions would continue, once a week, until Martin had made enough progress, and so they did. Douglas would drag Martin to the therapist's office, Martin would emerge one hour later, sobbing and trembling and Laura, the therapist, would seek out Douglas and tell him about the day's session while Martin calmed down.

Over the weeks a side of Martin, before unknown to Douglas, continued to unfold, a side full of tears, hurt, anger and self loathing. He suddenly became aware of Martin's struggles with social anxiety, self harming and suicidal thoughts.

Five weeks into the therapy Martin himself had told Douglas about his suicide attempts, there had been two of them, and showed him the scars on his wrists. Laura had been proud and called it progress, Douglas had felt so sick with guilt he hadn't slept at all that night.

Three weeks later things had changed. Martin had as usual emerged from Laura's office red eyed and exhausted from crying, but this time with a smile on his lips. Laura had walked up behind him, squeezed his shoulders and told Douglas that Martin had stopped blaming himself and started blaming his family which, though it still was a long way to go, was a huge step in the right direction.

From that moment on things got better, Martin slowly started smiling more, laughing more and enjoying life more. He became more and more confident and his stutter and nervous mumblings had disappeared, at least when he talked to people he knew, and three and a half months after his breakdown Martin was ready to fly again.

Herc, who had been kind enough to fill in when Douglas couldn't do the flight alone, did a huge show of handing over the captain's hat to Martin and then promised to take them all out for dinner when they returned.

Ever so slowly but just as steadily things returned to normal...almost

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><p>Douglas was sitting once again with an overly cheerful and polite Martin, but this time it was in a <em>very<em> Martin kind of way.

"Sir seems to be in an awfully cheery mood today."

"No I'm not!"

"Martin, you were whistling, _whistling_, a moment ago.

"Oh, you heard that." Martin blushed deep red, a habit that had stayed exactly the same since the 'incident' almost a year ago.

"It was hard not to"

Martin shifted a bit in his chair and took a firmer hold on the controls, staring out at the clouds in front of them. Douglas looked expectantly at his co-pilot but said co-pilot, not so subtly as he probably wished, ignored him.

"Martin" He urged, curious about what the captain needed to hide so badly. Because whatever it was he was hiding, he was doing it badly.

"Fine" Martin tried to glare at him but the effect was rather lost since there was a huge grin on his lips. "I've met someone"

"Who's the lucky girl, or should I say unlucky"

"Oh, ha ha ha." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Well, it's...it's not a girl actually." He bit his lip and looked over at Douglas.

"Oh, didn't know you played for the other team."

Martin blushed deep red once more and fidgeted a bit.

"Actually, I kind of play for both teams. Sort of, you know."

"Captain Crieff, ever so indecisive." When Martin opened his mouth to protest Douglas quickly asked"

"Who's the lucky boy?"

Martin broke into a huge grin again and Douglas couldn't help to mimic.

"His name is Dave, well David actually but he calls himself Dave and everybody else calls him Dave so I-"

"Martin"

"Oh sorry. So Dave. We met when I was moving his furniture three months ago, he just moved here you know, and he asked if I wanted a coffee and I said yes and we had coffee and he then asked for my number so I gave it to him and he called me the next day and asked me for another coffee." He paused to breathe. "And I joined him for coffee and we talked and laughed and then we had lunched and talked and laughed more and he's really really cute and I really really like him and he really really likes me. Me!"

"It sounds really really really good" Douglas teased, earning a glare from his copilot before he continued" Don't take this the wrong way bit Martin, that happened three months ago. Why are you such an annoying ray of sunshine today?"

"Well..." Martin cleared his throat and shifted in his chair a few times, his ears turning pink, and cleared his throat again. "I...we...it was the first...I spent the night at his house and we slept together for the first time. Not _sleep_ slept but, you know, slept slept together and-"

"Alright alright, I get it and you're free to keep all juicy details to yourself."

Martin ears went a darker shade of pink but despite this he looked rather smug. Douglas was just glad he could suppress the mental images of Martin and Dave together in bed doing, NO! Stop. He was not going to think about that. However what he was most definitely going to thing about, or rather do, was to make sure Martin remained alright and that this Dave person didn't mess that up.

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><p>Douglas and Dave met a few days later when he came to pick up Martin after a flight. Dave was, a quite normal looking bloke. He was taller than Martin, which wasn't such a feat, and probably older, but only with a year or two, and although he wasn't attractive he wasn't ugly either. He was just normal, well to Douglas at least. Because when Martin and Dave looked eyes Douglas swore he could see Martin soar an inch or two above the ground.<p>

"Hi honey" Dave gave Martin a peck on the cheek and then faced Douglas. "So is this the famous Douglas Richardson you've been talking so much about"

"Pleasure to meet you." Douglas took Dave's outstretched hand in a strong grip, no really trusting the man.

"Dave Johnson."

Douglas didn't say anything,he only continued to stare at Dave, making it very clear that if he ever hurt Martin no one would ever know that the body found shredded in one of GERTI's jet engines was his. Dave bravely stared back at him, slowly raising one arm to squeeze Martin's shoulders, stopping the pilot's nervous shifting from foot to foot.

"Dave?" Martin asked when the pause got too tense for him to handle. Dave needed a moment to compose himself and then look down at Martin like the little ginger was his whole world.

"Yes dear?"

"Shouldn't we, um, eh. It might go cold."

"Cold? Oh the pizza, right." He turned and faced Douglas again" We'll be off then, nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine."

Douglas watched as the pair walked away, lacing their fingers together and whispering in each other's ears and giggling like teenagers. When they reached the car Dave leaned in and pressed his lips firmly to his boyfriend's, his hands tugging at Martin's ginger hair and, quite frankly, proceeded to snog the hell out of him.

When they broke up Martin grinned like he was the happiest man on earth and Douglas decided that yeah, Martin would actually be perfectly alright.

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><p><strong>I got a comment on Martin's therapist telling Douglas about the day's session and I just want to say that she was given permission to do so by Martin. I couldn't work this in without it sounding forced or like a parenthesis so that's why it's not in the chapter.<strong>

**So this was it. Please tell me what you think about the story so I know what I can improve.**

**Take care**

**/Phin**

**(Ps. the reuploading was just some formatting done. Not a word changed)**


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